Hey Jamhead here…this is the start of what I originally planned to be a short oneshot thing of Jisbon fluff, but escalated. So I cut it into pieces and here is the first piece…da da da daaaaa! I hope yu review because it makes me feel small and unimportant if yu don't..:(
Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist, plain and simple. Yeah simply sad…but we all luv yu Bruno Heller 3
In sickness and in health
Part1
Jane glanced out the car window. It was the beginning of September in Sacramento, and after a summer long drought, it had immediately started to pour. Even then as he drove, the rain pelted heavily down against the roof and windows.
The team back at the CBI, hated the rain. For them it only brought a wave of depression and the extra precautionary step to avoid lingering puddles, on the job. But for Jane, the rain brought on a wagon- load of happy memories. For one, the rain reminded him of his friendship with Lisbon. The moments they'd shared and the day they'd ran off that porch and into the pouring rain. The way her smile had lit up her face and the sound of her playful laughter, as they raced to the shelter of the SUV.
He loved her smile. And her laugh, remained the most wonderful sound in the world. As he thought about it then, driving his little blue car to work, he realized there was a lot he loved about Lisbon. Her gorgeous emerald eyes, for instance, or even her breath- taking raven black hair. Or the way her cheeks blushed that lovely shade of red when he was near. Even her slightly dimpling smile when she was embarrassed made him quiver.
Just thinking about her made him speed up down the road, towards the CBI.
When Jane finally arrived at the CBI, he was ten minutes late. He knew Lisbon would be mad, so instead of grabbing a cup of tea first, he went straight for her office, to face the music.
But to his –and apparently the rest of the teams'- surprise, Lisbon hadn't arrived yet.
"What do you think is holding her up?" asked Rigsby sipping his coffee. He sat on the edge of Van Pelt's desk and exchanged knowing glances with Cho.
Instinctively, Jane went over and settled down on his couch, earning a few rolled eyes and chuckles that spelt "typical Jane." He didn't have to see to know. What they didn't know was that Jane was secretly going insane inside! Truth be told, he was extremely worried about Lisbon.
In his mind, he ran through all the possibilities to reason Lisbon's absence. Traffic jam, broken alarm clock…
Rigsby went on. "I think she went home with that Mashburn guy after work last night," he said casting an amused look over to where Jane cringed at the name and shifted uncomfortably on his couch.
He couldnt help but get a little kick out of Jane's reaction.
In his mind, Jane's thoughts changed gears and his imagination went into overdrive. Jane pushed the thought directly from his mind. He couldn't bare to think about his Lisbon with another man, let alone Walter Mashburn.
"No actually I think they broke it off last night," Jane spoke quickly without opening his eyes. The team didn't catch Jane's crossed fingers hidden behind his left arm.
Rigsby opened his mouth to reply, "Actually…" but was greeted by an elbow to the rib by Cho, who sat beside him. Having spilt coffee all over himself as a result of his collegue, Rigsby kept quiet and resulted to mumbling things under his breath and carefully dabbing at the coffee stain in his fresh shirt with a tissue, angrily.
Pushing away all bad reasons for her being late, Jane settled back into his couch.
"Oh God, what if she's in trouble or hurt?" worried Van Pelt.
This thought did not sit well with Jane. He tried to push it away, but instead the gears in his mind started to turn and then and images began to unfold. He saw Lisbon, on her kitchen floor, lying dead in a pool of her own blood. Above her the likes of an all too familiar bloody smiley face, taunted him on the wall.
Jane couldn't take it anymore; he had to know what was keeping Lisbon. Forget calling, he was going to drive to her house and find her, demanding a reason for her absence.
He stood up then, abruptly. But that was as far as he got because at that moment Lisbon arrived.
It took all the strength he had not to walk, no run, over to Lisbon and swing her off her feet into a huge hug. But that would look unprofessional, as she'd say.
Suddenly embarrassed from his actions, Jane glanced shyly over at the team. But no one had noticed. In fact they were all on their feet, watching Lisbon.
Jane followed their gazes and saw something he hadn't noticed before.
This wasn't his 'at work an hour early, coffee hog, head held high, totally professional and unbreakably stubborn Lisbon.'
No, the Lisbon that walked into the bullpen at that moment was much different.
This Lisbon had distinct dark circles under her eyes. She showed lack of sleep and overly high stress levels. Where his Lisbon walked with her head held high in determination, this Lisbon walked shaking from the cold, weakly clinging to the likes of a tissue box for dear life, her only determination to make it through the next hour without collapsing. Where his Lisbon always came across to him as if she could concur anything that dared to darken her path, this Lisbon sniffed a puffy red nose and shivered though her obvious fever was edging dangerously off the charts.
Jane knew immediately what was wrong. All the signs were there...
Lisbon had the flu.
Stifling a sneeze, and managing a small, weak smile, Lisbon staggered sickly into the bullpen. She was careful to keep a safe distance from the team as she spoke.
"Hey guys," she croaked dryly, signs of a sore throat in the mix. "Sorry I'm late but I had to run to the pharm-m-a-a-aaaaaaaaccchhhoooo-o-o!" Lisbon enclosed a sneeze in the convenient wad of tissue she'd been holding.
The team took a hesitant step backward.
"pharmacy," she finished sniffling. Then looking a little dizzy and off-balance, Lisbon hurried off into her office. There was a sound of the door closing and a chorus of muffled sneezes and curses, and then quiet as everyone went back to work.
Everyone except Jane. Instead he headed straight for the break room, across the hall. Minutes later he returned with a teacup for himself and a coffee mug for Lisbon. Both were piping hot. Jane had also managed to carry a small plate of cookies he'd taken from her secret —or so she thought— stash, hidden away from Rigsby and any other member of the team who ransacked her usual snacks to fulfill their peckish needs.
He carried them across the bullpen, past the eyes that he knew all too well, followed him curiously.
Without knocking he walked casually into her office, juggling the plate and cups with expert hands. Carefully, he set down the coffee mug in front of Lisbon. She was already engrossed in a sea of tissues and had been face- down in them on her desk when she smelt the coffee. Jerking her head up abruptly, like a predator seeking its prey, she took the coffee mug and drank a generous sip from it. Then keeping it between her hands and letting the steam seep into her pores, she closed her eyes and smiled happily. He knew her too well.
"Thank you, Jane," she said her voice still thick with illness.
Jane watched her, tilting his head to one side as he did. When he came to his conclusion he straightened and said "You look horrible."
Lisbon's smile faded and she opened her eyes to glare at him. "And good morning to you too," she said sarcastically.
Jane set the plate down beside her and took a sip of his tea. "You know that's not what I mean."
Lisbon took a cookie from the plate and bit into it savoring the taste, if she could taste it at all, being as sick as she was. "I'm perfectly fine, Jane," she scoffed stifling a nasty sneeze, she knew would blow her cover. She knew eventually she'd have to give in, to the 'i am never fooled' look on Jane's face. But being his Lisbon, she certainly wouldn't go down without a fight.
"Lisbon—"
"Jane! I'm fine, okay?"
To her surprise he nodded and took another sip of his tea. Had he actually listened to something she said for once? A feeling of achievement and prides illuminated Lisbon's face.
However to be able to convince Jane she was really okay, he wouldn't go down without a fight either.
Jane walked around Lisbon's desk, watching her like a lion stalking its dinner. And then he lay down on her couch.
Lisbon looked up from her paperwork. "What are you still doing here?" she asked rather annoyed -like. Jane knew she was already having a hard time concealing her extreme urges to sneeze. But sooner or later she had to crack.
Jane looked up from his tea, casually setting it down beside him. He reached up to put his hands behind his head. "I'm going to make sure you're really okay," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Lisbon sighed heavily going back to work and Jane knew he had won, for now at least.
By the time lunch rolled around, Lisbon felt terrible. She could hardly stand up and was in no capacity to focus on anything. But she wouldn't let Jane see it. So as soon as he was out of sight grabbing his own lunch, Lisbon escaped out of the CBI building and into her SUV.
She drove not really knowing where to. But after being held under the watchful eye of the pain -in the -ass consultant, all morning, anywhere would be better than back at the CBI. But being as sick as she was, she continued to fall into an ambush of unmerciful sneeze attacks, so much it made her eyes water, therefore blurring her vision, which wasn't a good idea when you were driving.
Somehow by the grace of God, Lisbon managed to drive safely to her unknown destination. She parked her car and stepped out taking in a breath of fresh air and a look at her surroundings.
By some unknown miracle, she had pulled up in front of her apartment, no less. Truth be told, she had absolutely no clue how she got there, or when she decided to, but here she was. Home.
Ten minutes later, Lisbon was in her kitchen. With a coffee mug in hand, she was determined to wake herself up. She could not go back to work, if she was sick, she just couldn't operate, especially with Jane watching her every move.
So there she was in her kitchen, downing her sixth cup of coffee as her favorite Spice Girls CD played in the background. She tried to dance and indulge in the music like usual, tried to make herself feel better but nothing seemed to work.
As another wave of the already nagging migraine tugged at her brain, Lisbon downed an Advil and sighed, leaning against the counter... she still had 20 minutes 'till she has to be back at HQ.
It was then that Lisbon decided to make a sandwich. Opening her fridge, Lisbon stared into bareness of her food supply. In recent weeks she hadn't spent many meals at home. She found a package of ground pork in her fridge and some bread. It was all she had so it would have to do.
Without a second thought, she threw the pork into a pan, on the stove to cook. But being as sick as she was she forgot to turn ON the stove, and didn't notice when she returned to the stove a sizable amount of time later to put the uncooked meat between the two least mold ridden pieces of bread. By then her migraine had steeped to a higher climax and she was edging towards insanity.
She munched the sandwich hungrily. But again, being as sick as she was she couldn't taste it, or the raw meat.
Then finished her lunch, she glanced at her watch and downed a glass of milk —which also seemed a little on the sour side—. Then she threw the leftover meat in a Tupperware container in the fridge, and ran out the door.
Well this would be the beginning piece to the puzzle that is this story…really it's just a bit of good 'ol Jisbon fluff…amd more to come..now that we've added a definite 'food poisoning' into the mix, what'll happen,…. ? pls review! I know you know how!
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